


Photograph - I Don't Need Your

by Cupcakemolotov



Series: come alive [23]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Meetings, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, New Orleans, Vampire!Caroline, hybrid!Klaus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 00:42:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cupcakemolotov/pseuds/Cupcakemolotov
Summary: Caroline has made a career out of catering to the supernatural, artistic temperaments.  But when her models start start showing up in body bags, enough is enough.





	Photograph - I Don't Need Your

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaLainaJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/gifts).



Caroline was pissed.

Standing impatiently in the elevator, she kept her lips tightly compressed least something spilled out at the lackey at her back. It'd be a shame to ruin this dress with blood, and she'd no doubt that the goon would make her work for it. But she also suspected he thought she was a cream puff, her six decades of vampirism hardly impressive.

His mistake.

This was the third model that had failed to meet her return check-in and she was tired of hiding bodies. New Orleans already had enough of a missing persons problem, she detested adding to it. It was ridiculous, and artistic temperament or not, eating her models because they weren't reflecting the light properly or some other nonsense was going to stop.

She'd fallen into the business on a dare, years ago. She and Marcel had been having an argument about one thing or another, casting photos for a local show she was working with that were awful. It had lead to him laughing and suggesting she try to do better. So she had. And she'd done it fabulously, thank you very much.

She'd no interest in peddling flesh or cookie cutter beauty, worked with woman who looks were as striking as they were lovely. In a decade she'd carved herself a nice, lucrative niche within the supernatural art community. And now someone was eating her current livelihood.

Old vampires were a strange lot. Caroline had listened to a great many of them bemoan modern beauty standards, had suffered through numerous boring conversations until they'd gotten to what their previous artistic muses required. It was creepy, how detailed they could be, down to the arch of a model's foot.

She'd gone back to look at her file when she'd realized that the girl had missed her second appointment that afternoon. N.K had been the only information on file, and a quick check of the wire transfers had offered even less name on file. He'd always been prompt with payment, and they hadn't been small sums, so her staff had apparently hoped he'd just stop eating her clients.

The reaming Caroline had delivered had left her office grave-silent except the sound of her clacking heels as she marched out. N.K lived in a recently refurbished high-rise, his address typed furiously into her phone. She'd looked at renting it herself years ago, the idea of light and a bigger bathroom appealing, but it'd be a few more decades before she could afford that kind of monthly payment.

Her frustration was nearly wiped away as she took in the changes as she was let in. For someone so paranoid, walking in had been surprisingly easy.

The pale wood floors were the same, as was the cream of the walls, but the walls had been gutted, given the space an open feeling that she loved. There were an assortment of fascinating paintings, and she was tempted to see if that was really a Monet or a fabulous knock off, when the sound of clicking caught her attention.

Camera.

Marching in that direction, she walked around a corner that had once led to the master bedroom and felt her eyes widen when she realized it'd been converted into a studio. Mourning the waste of a bathroom with such potential, she turned to glower at the scene in front of her. The first real look of her mysterious N.K was a tumble of curls that looked like they'd been repeatedly disheveled and a truly spectacular ass.

Biting her lip for a moment in appreciation, she dragged her gaze away to look at her model. She was positioned carefully to catch the light, the dim overhead lights flicked off, and she'd admit the girl's skin glowed. Her relief that she was alive was short lived, when she recognized the glazed look to her eyes.

A condition that was strictly against the contract she insisted be signed. The model was also in breach, as she was required to ingest vervain on a daily basis. She was providing models, not mobile snacks.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"A moment, love," unexpectedly low, British tones clipped out. "As you can see, I'm busy."

Caroline gaped at his back, her temper rushing under her skin at the dismissive tone and she narrowed her eyes. Turning on her heel, she matched over to the light switches and turned them all on. She heard a curse and turned to face him just as he finished twisting, vibrant blue eyes narrowed in temper.

"I've eaten prettier vampires for less," he bit out, spine straightening as he glowered at her. Caroline met that pissed off gaze with her own, ignoring the niggling impression that she'd seen him somewhere before.

"I know," she dismissed in the same cool tones he'd directed at her earlier. "I've had to deal with two bodies in as many weeks. I couldn't honestly care if you are documenting the size of your dick, but you will not be compelling and eating my models while you do it."

A glittering flash of eyes, sparking with a flash of yellow. "Not generally the attitude when my cock's involved, sweetheart."

"I don't care for mediocre art," she drawled. She was a bit thrown when her biting comment didn't phase him, sudden amusement curling along his ridiculously biteable lips. She pointed at the girl who hadn't so much as twitched. "That one is mine and we'll be leaving now."

"Caroline Forbes," he said after a moment, and she blinked at him as he set his camera down, hands sliding into his pockets as he strolled towards her. In the bright lights, the thin Henley he wore showed off the lean lines of his torso and the shadow of a tattoo she determinedly did not stare at. His smile widened at her confusion, and his head tilted towards the model, gaze never leaving her face.

"You did say the girl was yours, did you not? I believe that means it was your name on that rather tedious contract you sent over."

Caroline pursed her lips, wondering at the sudden flutter in her belly. "So you did read it. Fascinating, since you ignored it."

"I'm not particularly fond of rules," he drawled as his gaze dropped to her lips before slowly wandering back up. "Call it a quirk."

"That's too bad," she said coolly. "I happen to love them. Particularly when they are in contractual form."

Another glint of amusement, but also an unexpected flare of heat, and he made a considering sound. "Does that preference for control extend to all areas of your life, love?"

Lashes lowering as she took in that flirt, and she gave herself a moment to absorb the sheer amount of sex he was exuding. It was a pity, that he'd pissed her off so badly by eating what wasn't his to destroy. Otherwise, she'd have looked forward to seeing how much charm he was willing to use to get her out of her dress.

"Not something you'll know," she replied. She motioned to her model. "We'll be leaving now."

"Pity," he said as he rocked slightly onto his heels. "I'd have like to see your skin in this light. Draw you loose limbed and sated."

She ignored the hint if gravel in his voice and the corresponding arousal in her veins. Her gaze lingered on the camera, and she arched a brow. "Draw?"

A dismissive wave. "Photography is a new medium, one that isn't working the way I'd hoped."

His fingers raked through his hair in a frustrated motion, leaving his curls further askew, and she clenched her teeth to keep from finding it strangely adorable. The shifting of moods was leaving her unbalanced, and now that he wasn't growling threats or making sex eyes, she wasn't quite sure how to handle it. She didn't expect his gaze to slam back to her face, for him to lean close with narrowed eyes, suddenly hotly intent.

"You have freckles."

"Is rudeness your default setting?" She stepped around him and headed for the girl. "What was your full name? So I know who to blacklist you from my books."

"Niklaus," he said easily enough. "But most people know me as Klaus."

Her fingertips froze where she was lifting the models chin to counter the compulsion in place. Mouth running dry, she tried not keep her heartbeat steady, and failed.

"So you do know of me," Klaus drawled as he meandered closer, until the heat of him was brushing her spine. "Rethinking those remarks about my cock, Caroline?"

Her eyes slid shut. In for the penny, in for the pound. "No. You're an ass."

His laugh brushed the curve of her shoulder, and her nipples tightened behind her bra. "I've been called worse. We'll have to see what we can do about your option of me, in the future."

Klaus leaned over her shoulder and slipped his hand beneath hers, murmuring a second compulsion that had the model blinking hazily before turning and heading to the elevator. His free hand caught her waist when Caroline went to shift, and her heart kicked in her throat.

"Will you be at Marcel's little soirée in two nights?"

She'd intended to go, because Marcel threw a fun party, and she could always find a dance partner. But with Klaus Mikaelson, Hybrid and Original, are not quite pressed against her, she was rethinking her plans. She was terrible at keeping her mouth shut and alcohol could only make it worse.

"I'm rethinking it."

"Don't," he said softly.

She stepped away from him then and his hand fell away from her hip. Caroline could still feel it. "I've never been one to throw myself on an altar to die."

His grin was bright and boyish, a hint of delivery in his dimples. "No?"

"No."

Those pretty eyes narrowed, and Klaus clasped his hands behind his back. "Then you won't mind saving me a dance."

Annoyed, she spun on her heel and stalked back to the elevator. She was pissed and more than a little turned on, and he hadn't even really touched her. She caught sight of him as the elevator closed behind her, eyes heavy lidded and dark. She'd be willing to bet he wasn't going to let that comment about his dick go, either.

It probably made her a terrible person, but she was looking forward to it. Caroline had never been one to backdown from a challenge. Even if it meant there was a chance she'd end up dead.

It'd probably be worth it.


End file.
